


Ernil Legolas

by Calairiel_Malromiel



Series: House of Thranduil [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bond-Mates, Gen, Parent Thranduil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-20 16:37:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14898140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calairiel_Malromiel/pseuds/Calairiel_Malromiel
Summary: This is an AU series called House of Thranduil. It begins in Ennor (Middle Earth) and will conclude in Aman.It begins with Ernil Legolas, which is mostly the backstory, and tells the tale of Thranduil's disastrous first marriage and how he was left alone with an infant son. In this story, Legolas has a twin sister who was taken by his mother to Aman.In this AU there are bond-mates or soulmates, though arranged marriages do occur in the Noble Houses.I own no characters but my own and claim none of Professor Tolkien's.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks go to The Tolkien Gateway ( http://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/Main_Page ) for all canon spellings and backstories and to Real Elvish ( https://realelvish.net/ ) where all OC names and their meanings came from.

**The border of Eryn Galen**

The exhausted ellith urged her horse forward to the waiting carriage, her child clutched securely against her body. The ellon waiting frowned as he saw her approach. “Why did you bring the child? He’ll never let us go with his heir.”

 

“There were two,” the ellith replied. “I have left him his son, but I will not leave my daughter. I have fulfilled my obligations to him. To my father. To our people. I'm free now. We are free! Let us go!”

 

The ellon helped the ellith into carriage and they were soon on their way to the Havens. Though they both feared pursuit, none followed. From there they would sail to the West, leaving Ennor forever.

 

**Meren Nen Amon**

“My Lord?” Tholdir, Captain of the Guard approached his King.

 

“They are gone,” King Thranduil stated, rather than questioned.

 

“Yes, My Lord. The Queen met Lord Uthaesson at the edge of the Woods. She has the Princess,” Tholdir reported.

 

“Well,” the King sighed, “She never was the Queen, was she? By her own choice. But she did give us an heir to the throne. For that we must be grateful. You may go.”

 

“Yes, My Lord,” replied the Captain and left his King to contemplate the events of the night in peace. He knew he was sworn to secrecy and didn’t need to be told to keep the events to himself. How the King chose to explain this nights events to their people was none of his concern.

 

The King made his way back to the nursery and summoned his Aide, Galion, an ellon he’d grown up with and who he considered his closest friend. He bid him enter when he heard the soft knock and he peered down at his infant son.

 

“Sire?” Galion’s soft voice inquired. He, along with his wife, knew how hard the past year had been for his friend and King.

 

“Come and see my son, my friend,” Thranduil beckoned. Galion sent over to stare at the tiny infant sleeping in his bassinet.

 

“He’s beautiful, Thran.” Galion marvelled at the perfect little prince and his crown of golden silk.

 

“Yes, he is,” Thranduil sighed. “He reminds me of my adar for some reason.” he added thoughtfully. “We’ll have to get a wet-nurse. Someone discreet.”

 

“What about Merilwen?” Galion replied, “She’s just weaned Lalorniel, and we both know she can keep a secret.” Galion grinned.

 

“Indeed!” Thranduil chuckled as a myriad of childhood adventures and scrapes played through his head. “I will agree to that - if she is willing.”

 

“I will ask her, of course, though I think she would be happy to oblige you.” Galion replied.

 

Thranduil lifted a skeptical brow, “Happy?”

 

Grimacing, Galion answered, “Yes, well, perhaps happy is a poor word choice. We both know she was looking forward to freeing herself from nursing. But I'm sure she will wish to help. It's just a lucky happenstance that we had already conceived when you wed.”

 

Thranduil sighed again, “She took his sister, Gal. I suppose I can understand why. The elfling is the spitting image of herself. I can't honestly say watching the child grow would not be a painful reminder of her mother’s deceit. Still, she took my daughter from me, just as she took everything else from me."

 

Thranduil looked again at his son, "I’m glad she's gone!” he said bitterly before he calmed himself again. “Please forgive me, old friend.” Thranduil sighed, “What's done is done.”

 

Galion laid his hand upon his friends shoulder, “Your life is not over, you know. You still have hope. Her actions have dissolved the marriage contract. You're free. Free to give your heart. Still free to find your bond-mate. And, for now, you have your son to take care of, to nurture and to love. You're not alone, Thranduil.” Walking swiftly to the door, Galion threw over his shoulder, “I'll go talk to Meri,” before disappearing through the door leaving Thranduil alone with his infant son.

 

Looking down, he again marveled at his perfect little elfling. “What should I call you tithen pen,” he softly asked. Suddenly, a breeze blew a new Spring leaf into the nursery window where it landed right on the little prince’s face. Thranduil bent to pick the leaf off his son’s face, worried it would disturb him, and disturb him it did. But instead of crying at being awoken so rudely, he giggled, waving his little arms in delight. Thranduil picked his son up and looked intently into his little face.

 

“Legolas,” he said. “You are Legolas, ion nin.” Legolas opened his eyes and Thranduil saw his own green eyes looking back as his son cooed at him. He smiled and kissed his son upon his brow with a heart suddenly lightened and full of joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eryn Galen - Greenwood the Great (The Woodland Realm)  
> Meren Nen Amon - Joyous Water Hill (Halls of Thranduil)  
> Ernil - Prince  
> Aran - King  
> Mellon - friend  
> Gwador - Sworn Brother (non blood relation/ close friend)  
> Gwathel - Sworn Sister (non blood relation/ close friend)  
> Ellon - Male elf  
> Ellith - Female elf  
> Elfling - child elf  
> Adar/Ada - Father/Dad  
> Naneth/Nana - Mother/Mom  
> Ion - Son  
> Iel - Daughter  
> Ion nin - My Son  
> Iel nin - My Daughter  
> Tithen Pen - Little One  
> Daeradar - Grandfather  
> Daernaneth - Grandmother  
> Daerion - Grandson  
> Daeriel - Granddaughter  
> 


	2. Chapter 2

Life settled down in the Woodland Realm and any whispers about the missing Queen where kept behind closed doors if they were spoken at all. King Thranduil was respected and loved and everyone knew there had been something...off... about the new Queen.

 

Though it was clear after their marriage night that she was a bonded ellith, _he_ was still an unbonded male. It was also soon apparent that she had conceived on their wedding night. She quickly grew with child and allowed no one near her, including the healers. She had disappeared the same night she had given birth. Everyone assumed she must have been weak enough after the birth that sailing was the only thing that would save her from fading. And no one missed her - including her King.

 

Laewend was the daughter of a Lothlorien noble, a friend of Oropher’s. Before Dagorlad, the two had agreed upon an arranged marriage between their children. Both had known about it for millennia, though their meetings were infrequent.

 

After Dagorlad and the fall of Oropher, Thranduil had taken up the crown and spent centuries rebuilding his badly wounded realm. Their losses had been shocking. Added to those killed in the actual battle, were those who had faded or sailed in their grief for those who would never return. He had never known his mother, but he had adored his father and missed him terribly and his absence left an ache in his heart.

 

Thank Eru he still had Galion, his oldest friend. His Gwador. And of course, Merilwen, his Gwathel. Galion’s wife and his closest female friend. The three of them had been inseparable as elflings in Menegroth. When his two best friends ended up as bond-mates he couldn’t have been happier. He didn’t know how he would have ever been able to face any of this without their support, love and honest friendship.

 

After several centuries of rebuilding a certain level of stability was reestablished in the Woodland Realm during the Watchful Peace. Then the letter from Lord Brannor had arrived congratulating the young king for his success in rebuilding his kingdom.

 

The letter went on with all the usual platitudes, and Thranduil rolled his eyes as they had received naught but minimal aid from Lothlorien. Indeed they had received more aid from Imladris, much to Thranduil’s surprised gratitude. He then straightened in his chair as he saw what the letter was _really_ about. Brannor was reminding him of the agreement between Oropher and himself regarding the nuptials between Thranduil and Lord Brannor’s daughter, the Lady Laewend.

 

The letter went on as though all had been arranged. Which was possible. Thranduil hadn’t made it through but a third of his father’s papers. And Brannor wished to know when he should begin preparations to bring his daughter to the Woodland Realm for the happy event.

 

“GALION!” Thranduil roared, knowing his Aide/Adviser/Steward was near. Galion was always near.

 

“You bellowed, My Lord?” Galion deadpanned as he entered his friend’s study, wondering if some Dorwinion would be required.

 

Thranduil waved the letter at him indicating that he should take it before it burned his fingers. Frowning Galion did just that, quickly scanning the letter. _Oh Eru! Yep! Dorwinion!_ He raised his eyes to Thranduil’s panic stricken emerald green orbs. “Calm down, Sire! Take a deep breath!” Galion soothed.

 

“What do you mean, _calm down?!!”_ Thranduil snapped. “He wants me to marry his daughter! This year! Without even the usual one year betrothal period! Why now? I haven’t heard a peep out of him in over four hundred years and now he wants to come here and have me marry his daughter without so much as a by-your-leave!” Thranduil flopped back into his chair in exasperation.

 

“First we _really_ need to search through your father’s documents to see if a wedding contract was, indeed, drawn up. If not, perhaps we can insist on protocols being observed. And Thran, what is the worst that happens? You’ve known her for centuries. Are you really so opposed to this marriage? Have you met an ellith who is your bond-mate?” Galion asked. “It is also what your father wanted for you, Thran.” he added softly.

 

“Low blow, Gal!” Thranduil exclaimed, stricken. “Alright then, let's get started. If no contract exists then I will insist on the proper protocols. He can bring her here if he insists, and the betrothal period will give us a chance to get to know one another. Give her a chance to meet our people and learn our customs. Who knows, we may discover we are not suited to one another at all and can avoid the whole business.” Thranduil proclaimed as he went to the bookcase where he had placed all his father’s files and correspondence.

 

Galion proceeded to produce a fine decanter of Dorwinion with two goblets seemingly out of nowhere. Thranduil shook his head and didn’t ask. He was used to his friends odd ability to pull things out of thin air.

 

Three hours later they found what they were looking for. The marriage contract. Signed by not only King Oropher and Lord Brannor, but also by Laewend and himself. Thranduil sat there stunned. Technically, on paper, he was already married to the ellith.

 

“How did this happen, Gal?” he asked rather pathetically and not surprisingly after all the potent Dorwinion they had consumed. The king was feeling mightily sorry for himself!

 

“You don't remember signing this? Your father didn't tell you _what_ you were signing?” Galion asked, a bit stunned, himself. He sighed. “That's that, then. You have no choice now, Thran. This is a done deal. Only some extraordinary circumstances could break this contract. You might as well start preparing for the wedding feast. It is only a formality now - a show for the people and a party to celebrate.” Galion’s tone was resigned.

 

“Those last few years he had me in here all the time helping him with running the Realm,” Thranduil replied hopelessly. “He was always pushing things at me to sign. I can’t say I read any of it. It was _his_ kingdom. I didn’t have any reason to question him on anything. I didn't see a need for me to be signing anything, but he insisted.” Thranduil groaned, his hands on both sides of his head, with fistfuls of his normally immaculate golden hair. Raking through the mess with his fingers he sighed in defeat. “How can I go through with this?” he moaned.

 

“You will go through this just as you have done everything else." Galion stoutly said, "Because it's your duty to do so. You are Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm, and you have certain responsibilities that go with that. I know this is hard for you, my friend, and I'm sorry it's not for you to find your bond-mate the usual way. But you never know. You and she could be very happy together.

 

"Look at your parents, Thran. Theirs was an arranged marriage and there was no doubt that their bond was a true one. I’ve heard that your father would have faded if not for you.” Galion consoled his friend and king as both knew that Thranduil’s mother had died not long after he was born in a freak accident in the forest outside their home in Menegroth. It had seemed so senseless and Oropher had been devastated. Only his love for his son had kept his fëa bound to his rhaw.

 

“I suppose you're correct. It seems I have no choice in any case.” Thranduil replied. “I hate it, you know. I hate being king. I will never be the king my father was.” Thranduil morosely said. “You have no idea how much I envy you, Gal, and what you and Meri have. I will never have that, you know.” he glumly said.

 

“Come on! Up! We need to get you to your chambers. I'll bring you something to eat and then you need some sleep.” Galion replied, alarmed at his king’s gloomy mood.

 

He did not really blame him, but it wasn’t like him to take on so. Thranduil complied with ill grace, grumbling all the way to his chambers. Galion shot a warning glance at the guards, whose eyes widened at their monarch’s stumbling gait and disheveled appearance.


	3. Chapter 3

The next several months passed by in a swirl of activity. Thranduil finally moved to his father’s chambers - something he’d put off doing after taking the crown. His mother’s chambers were prepared for the arrival of his new queen.

 

Galion was not only busy with the preparations, but also in curbing his king’s alcohol intake, which was becoming alarming. He was frankly aghast by his king’s glassy gaze when Lord Brannor arrived with the Lady Laewend, although Thranduil greeted them with nary a misstep, appearing the gracious Lord, bidding them welcome to his home.

 

But to his own dismay, Galion found he disliked Lady Laewend, immediately, and could not put his finger on why. She was beautiful with unusual coloring for a Sinda Noble, with chestnut colored hair and gray eyes. Her manners were impeccable and her visage demure. But something felt off about her and Galion couldn’t shake it. He took himself to task for allowing his Lord’s antipathy to his nuptials cloud his judgement.

 

He would learn soon enough that his instincts were correct.

 

The wedding had gone off without a hitch, both bride and groom resplendent in their wedding finery. The bride looked lovely in her forest green gown, embossed with golden leaves honoring both her Lothlorien heritage and her new Woodland Realm home. Her chestnut hair braided into a crown upon her head, decorated with adamant and emerald pins so that her braided crown sparkled as she walked toward her intended.

 

Thranduil was stunning in grey trousers, a forest green tunic embroidered in silver leaves, a silver robe with black boots. He wore his mithril circlet with a thumbnail sized emerald in the center of his brow.

 

Before the ceremony, Thranduil had tried to speak with his intended but she had been aloof and reticent. Thranduil put it down to reserve and nerves, though he wondered if she was any more willing than he about their wedding. The one time he’d got her alone he clumsily tried to reassure her that she need not go through with if were against her wishes. She had briskly cut him off and told him she was quite prepared to do her duty to her people and household, leaving him both confused and worried for their future.

 

After the feast, where he was careful not to imbibe too much, he and his wife retired to their chambers to prepare for their wedding night. When Thranduil had entered his wife’s chamber she told him she wished to have children right away. Though nervous, Thranduil was willing to try.

 

He, of course, was a virgin and had no experience with ellith, as was their custom. His wedding night was very disappointing for him, but the worst was to come in the morning. When he tried to find the bond he knew should come with their relations and he found…...nothing. But when he looked into his wife’s eyes he could see she was a bonded ellith.

 

Laewend sighed when she saw his confusion and somewhere inside she may have felt bad for her deception, but she was determined to see her plan through to its bitter end. She explained that she had long ago fell in love with another ellon, but her father didn’t approve of him and they had bonded in secret.

 

She had obtained a potion from her mother to hide the the fact she was bonded. Between herself, her mother and her bond-mate they had decided that she would go through with the marriage with Thranduil, give him an heir and then sail west. That way her duty to her family would be upheld and Thranduil would have an heir to the throne while being free to wed his bond-mate should he meet her on these shores.

 

All their problems would be solved and she and her bond-mate planned to sail west to Amon along with her mother. She also explained that she had, indeed, conceived so they would only have to deal with each other for the next year and then she would leave. The circumstances being what they were, she would only accept the title of consort and would, therefore, refuse to be crowned Queen of the Woodland Realm. Once she sailed the contract would be broken and their marriage annulled.

 

Seeing the stricken look upon his face, she said gently, “I’m sorry, Thranduil. This was never about you. It was about me and my father. I know you don’t understand, but he holds great influence and power in Lothlorien. My bond-mate and I would never have been safe had we tried to do the honorable thing and just refused the marriage with you.” She sighed again and said, “Please say something, Thranduil.”

 

He was silent for a few moments before he got up and got dressed in silence. He then looked at her with cold anger in his eyes and said, “Had you both come to me I could have helped you. I am not just some Lord here. I am the KING! I could have protected you! There was no need to drag me into your deception. You have taken something from me that I’ll never get back and I can not forgive you for that.”

 

His words had been spoken with quiet fury and for the first time Laewend feared she had miscalculated in her schemes. She had been thinking only of herself and fulling familial honor and hadn’t even considered his feelings in the matter. Indeed, she hadn’t considered him, at all.

 

Thranduil left her and returned to his own chambers, closing the door quietly. She would have preferred open anger. Rage even. This quiet, cold anger was something she had never seen before and it frightened her. She only hoped that her condition would save her from his wrath.


	4. Chapter 4

Thranduil leaned against the closed door as tears slipped silently down his cheeks. Dear Father, _Eru_! What in the world had he ever done to deserve this. He’d meant it when he said she’d taken something from him that he could never get back. She’d taken his virginity. Something his father and every other teacher he’d ever had taught him was precious. That to share your body with another was sacred and only to be done in marriage.

 

Some calculating part of his mind understood the logic of her scheme, but she had destroyed him in the process. Unbonded or not, he could never give himself to another now. He felt despoiled. 

 

Needing to get out of the Halls and into his forest, he quickly changed and put on his favorite hunting tunic and leggings. He grabbed his knives, but left his sword. Touching the jeweled eyes of the stag decorating the hearth, a passage opened up and he was through it in an instant. Running down, down, down until he was at ground level and with the pull of the lever there he was out into his beloved forest.

 

He jumped into the arms of one of his friends, an old oak tree that embraced him lovingly feeling his distress and pain. Running his hand over the trunk, he got a hold of himself and began running through the branches of his friends. The trees moved their limbs making a wooden pathway for him. Thranduil had a special gift with all growing and living things and not even the Silvans were as attuned to the land as he was. It had always been thus, even when he was a child in Beleriand in the forests of Doriath.

 

It was something that had disturbed his adar, until he found out how useful it was to have a child who could hear the warnings from the trees, animals or even bugs when danger was approaching. It was how they had escaped the sack of the dwarves when Oropher’s Uncle, King Thingol had been slain.

 

And it was how they had escaped when the Fëanorionnath had come to destroy Menegroth. It was also why they had left Sirion before the Fëanorionnath had come again. Because Thranduil, not quite to his third century, had sickened, almost fading in the city and Oropher had had to leave to get his son into natural surroundings again. The land seemed to nourish him in both body and spirit.

 

The other odd thing about Thranduil was his fëa, both the shape and color. Most fëar where like an aura that surrounded an elf and generally a single color spectrum. Thranduil’s fëa was misshapen - like it was half a fëa. It had a shape, something Oropher thought that looked a bit like a tadpole.

 

But it was also large and powerful and full of earthly colors. Greens, golds, browns, russet and amber. Shot through with silver, purple, red, blue and teal. As though every color of the earth, it’s metals and its gems were in that fëa and it changed colors with his moods. Mostly, when he was serene, it was green. Every shade of green there was.

 

His adar had worried his fëa might be an ill omen, except he was the sweetest, most lighthearted child in Menegroth and a joy to be around. Even when he was involved in mischief with his friends Galion and Merilwen. _Eru!_ but those three had driven Oropher to distraction!

 

Determined. Stubborn. Relentless when he was trying to learn a new thing, but his nature was as sunny as a Summer day. Everyone in that kingdom enjoyed having him around and would sneak him sweets and small gifts just to see him smile. Though he was an ellon most compared his beauty to his cousin, Luthien. Morning and Evening, they both seemed touched by the All Father, _Eru_ Himself!

 

Even the tragedies that had befallen their people hadn’t dampened his optimism for long and he would bounce back when others would bow with sadness and grief. He always knew they would be safe someday. They just had to find their place in the world and he would tell his father this so often that Oropher believed him. Somehow this joyous little spirit had been gifted to him by Eru and he would be sure to nurture that gift.

 

When they finally come upon the Greenwood, Thranduil had looked upon it and smiled at his father, saying, “This is it, Ada! This is our new home. Now and forever! I feel it and they like us!” And he had laughed joyously giving his Adar a great hug. Confused, Oropher had asked, “Who likes us, son?” “Why the trees, of course, Ada!” he’d laughed.

 

And it was the trees welcome that had convinced the Silvans to welcome the Sindar refugees into their midst. It wasn’t much of a stretch afterwards to ask their leader, Oropher, to become their King. These Sindar were a people who knew how to organize in such a way that they didn’t go hungry during the harsh winters. And they respected the forest and the life within it. And while they didn’t bother their new king with anything but the most intransigent disputes, they generally left the Sindar alone and the Sindar left them alone.

 

Slowly over the centuries their peoples began merging into one people, each bringing their knowledge to the other. Bonds of friendship and then blood kin began forming so that when the call came to fight the evil that was once again upon the land the Silvans had heeded that call. Two thirds of their people perished, as did their king and many of the Sindar who had followed. They had fought together and died together and Mandos saw no difference between Sindar and Silvan.

 

Not all elves treated the Silvan as equals, though. They saw that within the encampments with the Noldor. And the Silvans did not forget that. When they returned home they gladly crowned Ernil Thranduil as their Aran. And he would prove to be their mightiest and greatest King. And while they had liked and approved of Oropher, they loved and adored his son.

 

He who could make the trees sing. He who the trees would actually move for. It was not a rare sight to see a tree actually hug the king. What was rare was catching the king dancing alone amongst the trees singing to them while the trees would sway to his song, as though they joined him in his dance. All this the Silvans knew of their king and they loved him for it. He was one of them and did thusly not for show, but because of the joy in his heart and his love of the Woodland Realm. They kept his secrets and were fiercely protective of him.

 

Thranduil kept his quick pace running from tree to tree, jumping when they could not reach across a break for him, until he reached his favorite spot within the forest. A pool of the clearest water surrounded by the softest moss and sweet grasses surrounding its banks, with flowers of every hue and fragrance imaginable combining in a light but heady scent that soothed the senses and healed the fëa.

 

He had been coming here for centuries. Whenever he felt agitated. He stripped down and jumped into the cool waters that embraced him as lover might. In those pure waters he scrubbed himself clean of the impurities he felt had contaminated his skin and fëa. He then lay in the waters and allowed himself to be held in their buoyant caress and he floated there as though he were laying upon the softest bed just listening to the life of the forest around him.

 

Eventually he climbed out and stretched out on the mossy grass and let the sun dry him. He dozed as the sun climbed in the sky trying to forget his anger at the betrayal he felt he hadn’t deserved. And he dreamed. He saw an ellon who looked so much like his father he thought he was seeing his adar as a young ellon, except he had his golden locks and green eyes and not the blue-gray that was his father’s gaze nor his silver-blonde hair. The ellon was happy and full of light and life and he could feel that he had an important destiny ahead of him. Then he saw the ellon, his son, sailing into the West and it about broke his heart.

 

Then he saw a woman? An adaneth? But she was aloft and beautiful. He had never seen a creature so fair in all his days, even among his own kind. Her eyes were a blue-green color and he could feel that she was as pure and refreshing as the water he had just enjoyed. This confused him even in his dream state.

 

She was fair, with pale golden hair, a paler shade than his own golden wheat hair. She was wearing a white gown with a teal sash about her waist and a blue robe that hung about her arms. He heard her in his head saying, “I am Sa-Ren, I am Water, I Heal” and then she pointed to him and said, “You are Ta-Ren, You are Earth, You Heal” And then “We are Ren,” and she smiled at him and she had a golden light about her and she was radiant.

 

Then the vision ended and he woke up startled, calling out, “Ningloril! Come back to me!” then he saw where he was and that it had to be close to dusk and he realized he’d gone all day without eating a morsel. He quickly dressed himself and found he was no longer feeling angry or bitter. He felt cleansed and he thanked Eru for the peace he felt in his heart and he began his trek back up into the embrace of his friends and made his way home.

 

He did not make it home that evening, nor even the next.


	5. Chapter 5

Galion was frantic. He hadn’t seen his King all day, and as he had seen both the new queen and her father at breakfast and lunch he was becoming concerned. Both seemed calm and in good cheer and he did not want to cause strife by asking relative strangers where his king was.

 

He had pulled Tholdir aside and whispered instructions for him to discreetly find out where the king was. So far he had not returned and evening meal was just beginning. Galion could see that even with his daughter’s soothing reassurances, Lord Brannor was becoming irritated. The meal concluded without incident and without the king. Galion left the Dining Hall so he could go somewhere in private to pace and worry in solitude.

 

********************

 

Meanwhile, Thranduil had been waylaid by Radagast the Brown, as he paused in his trek through the trees. “Might I have a word with you, King Thranduil?” the Wizard called up.

 

Thranduil grinned and asked the tree to set him down, which it obligingly did. The Wizard eyed him curiously and said, “You have to tell me how you manage that someday.”

 

To which Thranduil merely shrugged, “I don't know, myself. I've always just known the trees since I was an elfling.” Thranduil then inquired, “What can I do for you today? Well, what is left of this day.” he chuckled, indicating the dusky sky.

 

He eyed the Brown Wizard curiously. Radagast was quite tall and indeed brown. All manner of browns. Brown hair, brown eyes set in a tanned face. Brown trousers, shoes, shirt and coat - all neatly cleaned, tidy and he even smelled clean. He smelled _green,_ for lack of a better word, like a healthy forest.

 

For someone who spent all his time in the forest he was curiously bereft of dirt and debris. Which was a pleasant change from the Grey who seemed to have a permanent layer of dust attached to him. But he also felt homey - comfortable, his eyes gentle and kind. Thranduil felt himself relax in the Wizards presence.

 

“You should travel to Fangorn one day. I think you would enjoy speaking with the Onodrim.” the Wizard remarked indicating a large fallen log that would prove a very nice seat to chat upon.

 

“Oh, I have spoken to one of them before.” Thranduil replied enthusiastically, joining the Wizard upon the log. “When I was yet young and fleeing from the ruin of Doriath with my Adar. I could not sleep and went for a walk close to our camp and met one who named himself Treebeard along with his bond-mate Fimbrethil.

 

"They told me not to tarry there for they had seen that the land would soon be under the waves of the sea. That they, themselves, were heading east with their brethren to escape the War of the Belain that would soon be upon us all. They had seen the destruction their wrath would cause upon the land.

 

"They were very sad and could not understand how those who had created the land could so easily destroy it. I told them it was probably a bit more complicated than that and I told them of the evil of Morgoth that had spread upon the land. They knew of that evil balan but seemed innocent of his malice.” Thranduil sighed, “It is one of my most treasured memories.”

 

He then grinned and leaned in conspiratorially towards the Wizard, “I never told my Adar of this. I feared his anger that I had left the safety of the camp.” causing the Wizard to laugh heartily in enjoyment. 

 

“I like you, Young Thranduil! You are one of the reasons I came to live in your forest and I am thankful to you for granting me your permission without even a second thought. If I can ever be of any assistance to you, you must let me know!” the Wizard said, a smile upon his face.

 

His face then became serious. “Did you know, that none of us can see you? You have been a matter of great discussions over the years. The White and Grey believe it is due to some ill-intent on your part or a shadow upon your fëa.” The Wizard said and then he, himself, leaned in and said, “ _I_ do not believe this of you. Why, all one has to do is speak to you even once to know you do not have a single speck of darkness within your fëa.”

 

Thranduil stared at the Wizard a moment contemplating what he’d been told. “I like you, too, Aiwendil,” Thranduil began, addressing the Wizard by his proper name, “But I confess it makes me uneasy to know that I am the topic of any conversation amongst your brethren.” He paused a moment, “However, while I can't explain why a maia can not see me, I must confess to a certain amount of glee that I don't have to worry about being seen and disapproved of.” Thranduil concluded with a mischievous grin causing the istari to burst out in laughter once again.

 

"Oh, my! We must keep in closer contact, Young Thranduil. For I feel the days will become darker and those of us who follow the light should not be cut off from one another." Radagast said thoughtfully.

 

“Birds. We can communicate through the birds.” Thranduil murmured, as though deep in thought.

 

“You can speak with the birds?” asked the Wizard in surprise.

 

“Trees, birds, animals and even the insects. Most all life in the forest I can communicate with and influence.” Thranduil shrugged unconcernedly in response as though he was speaking of a triviality.

 

The Wizard stared at him a moment before seeming to come to a decision. “You must not share this information with anyone. It seems naught to you, but I can assure you there are those who would go to great lengths to get their hands on you to use for their own purposes. Some would even seem to be friends of the Light, but I fear they would be jealous of your gifts and seek to harm you.” the Wizard warned.

 

Radagast continued, “As I said before, we can not see you. It has made some suspicious. Even the Lady Galadriel can not see you in her Mirror. It is why you have been denied one of the Rings of Power. I think perhaps the wise are not so wise after all. 

 

"But I also believe one of those Rings would have done you more harm than good, anyway. Your gifts are natural ones. Not those of crafted and shaped metal with arcane spells imbued within. Your gifts are perfect for the protection of your realm and I fear you will need them. I also fear you will have a struggle ahead of you, but I believe you will prevail and thrive while the others will tire and fade over time. You will be the last.”

 

Thranduil stared at the maia and believed he was being granted a rare gift of prescience into his own future. Something these guardians rarely, if ever, shared with those who made Arda their home. He blew out a breath he had not known he was holding and looked around as though just noticing that full night had fallen.

 

“Let us fellowship for a time. I believe you and I have much to discuss.” The Wizard began in a cheerful tone, holding up a hand when Thranduil began to protest. “Hear me out! I know what has befallen you. I know of the falsity of your marriage - through no fault of your own,” he hasten to add, “And I know that you will shortly have an heir. An heir who will one day be very important to Arda.” he concluded, waiting for Thranduil to reply.

 

Thranduil looked at the Wizard with an arched brow, "You seem to know an awful lot about someone you just said you can not see."

 

"The birds, Young Thranduil. Not only do they migrate they are terrible gossips!" The wizard supplied. "Luckily for us both there are very few who know their tongue."

 

“Very well. Why not,” the king sighed. “I do not feel like going back and facing any of….that.” he said sweeping his arm in the general direction of his Palace and the intrigue and deception awaiting him there.

 

“Well, that is splendid. I assure you, you will not regret it!” And with that the Wizard pulled out a large sack from…….somewhere, and began pulling out all manner of food stuffs and skins of wine. Soon they had the makings of quite a fine feast and Thranduil thought this might be a splendid idea, indeed!

 

***************************

 

Back in the Halls, Galion was beside himself with worry and it did not help that he had begun avoiding Lord Brannor and his increasingly insolent queries at all costs. His King had been gone now for two turns of the Sun and he had not heard from the Captain in all that time. He made his way out the Great Doors to see if any of the guards had any word from the Captain or word from the King.

 

Once through the doors, however, he spied Toldir making his way towards him. “Well? Anything?” Galion asked, barely concealing the panic he felt.

 

“The trees say he’s making his way back towards the Palace, My Lord.” Tholdir reported.

 

“Don’t call me that, Captain,” Galion muttered absently.

 

It was a long standing joke between the two of them, but Tholdir decided that he wouldn’t reply in kind as he took pity on Galion’s obvious distraction.

 

“He’ll probably be in his rooms by the time you get there. You might want to grab him a bite to eat since he’s been out for two days.” Tholdir stated hoping to redirect his energies into something more useful.

 

He knew Galion needed routine and order and deviating from the norm agitated him until he could direct his energies into something that gave him that stability. As erratic as their prince, now king, was, he wondered how Galion had kept his sanity. Then wondered if he weren’t doing the Aide an injustice. Galion had known Thranduil his entire life and had survived his idiosyncrasies just fine. He even thrived under pressure.

 

He bowed as Galion hustled off to the kitchens to get a plate readied for his Lord. Perhaps an entire trolley would need to be stocked since the king had been gone so long and he was like as not ready to fade for want of nourishment. And Galion wanted answers! Oh yes! He may just be an Aide, but he was going to get to the bottom of why his Liege Lord had pulled a disappearing act the morning after his own wedding.  

 

Pushing the trolley down the corridor to his king's chambers, he paused to knock on the door and heard the muffled voice of his friend bidding him enter. Pushing the trolley into the chambers he saw Thranduil pulling on a casual shirt of the type he only wore when he planned a quiet evening alone in his chambers with a book for company.

 

He saw the trolley and exclaimed, “Oh _bless_ you Gal! I’m _starving!_ Care to join me, or do you have to go home to Meri?” Thranduil asked.

 

Not hearing a reply he looked up and saw the look of absolute horror on his friends face. “What?!” he asked, disturbed. Then understanding dawned upon him and he simply said, “Ah, yes. That.” he said in a flat voice. “Well, come join me and I will tell you the whole sorry tale.”

 

Which he did in full leaving nothing out, including his sojourn with the Brown Wizard. The only thing he did not share was the dream he’d had by the pond. Galion was his best friend in the world and he was going to need someone who had his back, so to speak. Because there was going to be no way he could hide the fact that he was an unbonded male - with a wife. “The good news, if there is any to be had in this sad tale, is that I am going to be a father, apparently.” he concluded.

 

Galion just blew out a breath and stared at his friend, completely at a loss for words for perhaps the first time in his life. “Thran, I - I,” he stumbled and then, “I've got nothing.” he concluded looking miserable and then stood up and started pacing, clearly agitated.

 

Thranduil simply poured them both a glass of his best Dorwinion and let him absorb what he had just been told. Galion sat back down and took a huge pull on his wine and just stared, at a loss, at his friend. “Why are you not furious? Why have you not thrown them both out of the Palace? Out of the Greenwood? OUT OF ENNOR?” Galion concluded, voice rising with each question.

 

Thranduil merely smiled a little sadly and refilled his friends glass. “Well, firstly,  _he_ does not know about any of this. Did you miss the part where it was she, her mother and her bond-mate who came up with this mad scheme? The morning after the ceremony was probably the first time in who knows how long she did not need to take whatever witches brew her mother has been dosing her with to hide that she was already bonded.

 

"And in a year the three of them will all leave together for Aman. I have no idea what Lord Brannor is going to make of that and frankly I do not particularly care. If he had not been so unreasonable about where her affections clearly lay then none of this would have happened in the first place. My only concern right now is getting him on his way. We can deal with the rest of this mess after he is gone.” Thranduil said, and drank deeply.

 

Galion just stared at his king for a moment before bursting out, “Thran! We can't hide that!” pointing at his friends face indicating his eyes. “How are we going to get him out of here without seeing you?” Galion got up again to pace and his mind started thinking of ways to feign an injury or illness to keep his lordship out of contact with his monarch.

 

“How about we go hunting?” Thranduil put forth and continued when he saw the look of incredulity that crossed Galion’s face.

 

“Look, he doesn't know us, our people and only had a vague acquaintanceship with Adar. How is he to know this is not some wild Silvan custom to welcome a new groom into the bonded-male fellowship? I think we should go hunting! It will be fun!” Thranduil got up and slapped him on the back in comradery.

 

“What can I do to help you arrange it? I will be happy to write a letter apologizing to my guest that I must away for this custom I did not inform him about before my wedding.” Thranduil said with a grin.

  
Galion, thinking quickly, decided they needed Tholdir, at the very least, to make this work. Plus, he would insist that they take at least some guards along for security.

 

“Yes! Do that. Make it as flowery and pompous as you can. It would serve him right to glaze over trying to read it and leave in a huff.” Galion said. And _he_ would make sure that he was encouraged to pack up and leave at the soonest opportunity!

 

“Ok, you write and I will be back as soon as I have spoken to the good Captain. He owes me one anyway!” Galion grumbled, leaving the trolley just in case his Lord wanted to nibble while writing and packing, and made his way to find the good Captain Tholdir!


	6. Chapter 6

“What do you mean he is not here?!!” Lord Brannor shouted, his face contorted in anger. “He just wed my only daughter and now he can't be bothered to show himself? This is an outrage!”

 

Barhador, High Steward of the Palace, stood his ground and patiently waited until the Lothlorien Lord vented his spleen and ran out of steam before replying.

 

“His Majesty makes his apologies, but it is an old Sylvan custom to capture a newly bonded bridegroom and take them into the forest for several weeks of merry making and commiseration over the shedding of the carefree days of youth.

 

"Being Sindar, His Majesty did not believe that he would be included in such, but as he was about in the forest the morning after his wedding he found himself snatched, blindfolded and carried away by his exuberant and loyal subjects. As I said, we do not expect to see him for many weeks, though he did manage to convince them to allow him to send a message conveying his most sincere apologies and bidding you good travels as you make your way back to Lothlorien.” The Steward concluded meaningfully while producing a letter bearing the seal of the king.

 

“I will, of course, arrange for an escort when you are ready to depart.” said the Steward, bowing and leaving the fuming Lord with nothing more to do than to prepare to leave the Woodland Realm.

 

Meanwhile, Thranduil enjoyed his hunting trip with his friends and when word reached them that Lord Brannor had left the Greenwood they slowly made their way home with a good catch of all varieties of game and fish. The kitchens and his people were ecstatic over the bounty brought to the kitchens to preserve, cure and smoke to be delivered to the various villages within the Realm.

 

The King enjoyed himself so much and he felt so relaxed that he decided that they would make this a monthly event to ensure that all within his realm would have plenty of preserved meat over the Winter months.

 

Once home, he called his wife into his office and informed her that she would be cared for and have free run of the palace until her time came due and then she was free to leave when she wished, leaving the child behind, of course.

 

She had tried to apologize, but the king cut her off and told her he was not interested in her apologies. He was still angry at what she had taken from him and insisted that if she really wanted to do honor to her house she could have simply left with her bond-mate and left him alone, in peace and gone ahead to Aman. If she was so afraid of her father she could have come to him and he would have happily provided them with an armed escort and counted himself lucky to be well out of it.

 

As it was, she had ensnared him within her foolish scheme and now he was honor-bound to deal with her mess in the best way he could. But he did not have to be happy about it. He dismissed her after that and went about his life in the best and most efficient way he could, his kingdom his first and foremost concern. As it had always been.

 

After that they lived separate lives and while no one was unkind to her, they could not help but notice their King was still an unbonded male and they blamed her for that. They knew whatever had happened, _she_ was bonded and he was not. He was polite to her, but showed no affection so it was not a stretch to conclude that she was bonded to another and yet she carried the King’s child. No matter how one looked at it she had been untrue to her bond-mate and that was a true scandal.

 

During her pregnancy she refused to see a healer, but did take care of her health. And when she discovered that she was carrying twins she kept it to herself. Another plan started to form in her mind and she decided, without telling anyone, that she would take one of the children with her to Aman. She had been bonded with her love for centuries and they had never once conceived. She had thought it was her, but with how quickly she had conceived with Thranduil, she began to believe it was her love and in this way she could give him the chance to become a father to her child. It was _perfect!_

 

She became happy and began to glow with anticipation in a way she had not before. Which was just as well, for it helped in the growth of her children in a healthy way. What she never saw was that there was something a bit twisted in her own mind. She had thought herself so clever in all her plans, and it was a breathtakingly immature way to view things, but she never once considered the ones she hurt or harmed in all her schemes. To her it was the best way to please everyone and she honestly did not see she was on the path to please no one.

 

It was not entirely her fault. No one told her otherwise. Not her mother, whose only thought was to hide what she had done from her husband. Not her bond-mate, who was honestly in love with her and would do anything to make her happy, regardless of what that was. And certainly not her father who was so controlling and unyielding that he drove her to these measures in the first place. The ellon she had fallen in love with was not a commoner. He was a Lord himself from a good family. But all Lord Brannor saw was the crown that could be hers and the power and influence it could bring him.

 

Then her time came and she had no choice but to allow the healers to attend her. She had managed to send messages by bird to her bond-mate regularly keeping him apprised of her condition and progress during the entire year. He had asked her to wait until she had healed before leaving but she was adamant that she was leaving as soon as she was delivered.

 

Luckily, there were no complications in birthing the twins and everyone was surprised by not only the fair haired prince that was delivered first, but then by the chestnut haired princess who followed. The healers took care of her afterwards and she was healed of the birthing trauma and felt fairly strong. She had fed her children and then prepared herself for the King to come in and meet his children. Little knowing that one of them he would not see again for over three millennia.

 

As soon as she was alone, she managed to take her daughter and leave the palace on horseback. At the edge of the woods she was met by her bond-mate and her mother and they left for the Havens and on to Aman, never to see Ennor again.

 

In her mind they would all live happily ever after, never thinking for a moment of the wreckage she had left in her wake. Nor did she realize the resentment she had created in the heart of her bond-mate in bringing a child, who was not his, along with her.

 

No one in the Woodland Realm missed, nor spoke of the queen, who was not queen, ever again.


	7. Chapter 7

Legolas had not only inherited his father's coloring he had inherited his father's sweet and sunny nature. Thranduil did not particularly see it that way, but had his adar been there he would have. Oropher would have had a strong case of deja vu had he been there to see his daerion growing up.

 

What Thranduil did see was how much his son resembled his adar. Legolas looked more like Oropher's son than Thranduil, himself, did. A fact that struck Thranduil strangely. He was the odd one out. He wondered if he took after his naneth.

 

Thirty years had passed before Legolas started asking serious questions about his naneth. Thranduil had answered his earlier questions as best he could, sensitive to his age and careful never to speak negatively about his naneth. The last thing he wanted was for his son to have a negative view of his mother and possibly, by that odd child-logic, himself.

 

So, when Legolas was younger Thranduil simply told his son that his naneth had sailed to Aman with his sister and her mother, his Daernaneth. And since his father had been fairly free in answering any question he had, Legolas had not noticed that no one but his father would even speak of his mother.

 

He had been sad to learn that he had a sister that he never got a chance to play with. Since Thranduil had not had the chance to name his daughter he called her Ilesteliel, which is Lost Hope. But Legolas did have Galion’s daughter, Lalorniel, or Lorni as he called her, as his closest companion. They had other companions, including Tholdir’s son, Bordir, but none so close as each other. 

 

Thranduil and Galion would smile reminiscently when they would see the ellyn and ellith running through the Halls, reminded of their own youth in Menegroth. Thranduil secretly harbored the hope that his son and Galion’s daughter would one day bond. But there was plenty of time for that. As it was, Thranduil was pleased that so many children had been born during these years of the Watchful Peace. 

 

But the day did come when Legolas was old enough that he started to notice those around him in ways other than “the grown-ups,” and when he was in his thirtieth year, and considered an adolescent, he asked his father the question Thranduil had been dreading to hear.

 

“Ada?” Legolas said as they were enjoying their breakfast during the one sure meal of the day they could share.

 

“Yes, ion nin?” Thranduil absently responded.

 

“Why are you not bonded like the other adars ” Legolas asked.

 

Thranduil felt himself tense, as he knew this day would come, but had great apprehension, none the less. He sighed, as he put down his morning tea, grateful he had not had a mouthful when his son asked his question.

 

“That, my son, is a rather long and complicated tale.” Thranduil said and got up to call Galion, who he knew would be near.

 

Galion met Thranduil in the outer chamber and with a quick, low spoken word from his king, left again.

 

Thranduil went back to the dining area within his chambers and motioned for his son to join him on the couch before the fire, blazing cheerfully in the hearth.

 

Legolas now had a worried look upon his face, but joined his father upon the couch. “Ada?” Legolas queried a little nervously.

 

“Ion nin, you have not asked me anything wrong." Thranduil reassured him. "As I said, it is a long and complicated tale, but if you are old enough to notice and to ask, then you are old enough to know. Just so you know, I have cancelled your studies for the day. Perhaps after we have this conversation we can go out for a ride in the forest. I have a favorite spot I would like to share with you. Would you like that?” Thranduil asked.

 

“Yes, Ada, That would be nice.” answered his son in a tone of voice that sounded a bit subdued. He had not thought his question so hard, but now he was a bit worried.

 

He loved his Adar and would not do anything that would upset him. Well, beside the usual things that seemed like good ideas at the time with his friends, but ended up with him being grounded inside the Palace with nothing to do but extra chores and study time. Though the worst trouble he had ever gotten into both here and in Imladris had involved the twins, Elladan and Elrohir! _Ai!_ But he somehow could never be sufficiently sorry for those because the twins always came up with the most _marvelous_ ideas for fun. _Ah! Good times, indeed!_

 

Thranduil proceeded to tell his son everything, in the gentlest manner possible. Making sure he understood exactly what being bonded meant, in a bit more detail than _“the talk”_ he had already had with his adolescent son, and how his mother had found herself in a predicament that she did not know how to handle. And had resolved it in a way that made sense to her, but had been, in truth, a bit immature and unrealistic because she was trying to please everybody and ended up pleasing no one. And this was why he was not bonded and why Legolas had not grown up with a naneth nor his sister and why his Daeradar, his mother’s father, had refused to visit him his entire life. 

 

That last had angered Thranduil, but in a way he was relieved. For all his faults, Lord Brannor was his son's Daeradar and that Lord's refusal to see or even to acknowledge his Daerion annoyed Thranduil, considering he faulted the ellon for the entire fiasco in the first place. But he was relieved that he hadn't had to deal with the unpleasant ellon in all these years. 

 

“And that’s about it, ion nin _.”_ Thranduil concluded, hoping he had answered all his son’s questions. “Do you have any questions?” he asked, hoping against hope that there would be none.

 

“She _lied_!” Legolas whispered, horrified and before Thranduil could say anything, he burst out, “Oh, Adar! How awful! How could she _do_ such a thing? That is so wrong! Oh _ada_ , I am _so_ sorry for you!” and he promptly threw his arms around his father’s neck and burst into tears, burying his face into his father’s chest.

 

Thranduil cradled his son and whispered that everything was ok, horrified by his son’s reaction. Obviously he had miscalculated his approach. The last thing he had wanted was for his son to harbor ill-will towards his mother. Thirty years had dulled the pain and ache that he had felt as being so ill-used by his former wife, but now he feared he must have conveyed that to his son, regardless of his intentions.

 

Legolas calmed himself and Thranduil wiped his tears away, desperately trying to think of a way to repair this, but was shocked by Legolas’ next statement and question. “They all lied to you! Why didn’t they just tell the truth? Does this make me a bastard? Illegitimate?”

 

Thranduil’s eyes widened in horror and he vehemently said, “No! No, ion nin! Legally, on paper and by our laws, your naneth was already married to me when she bonded with Lord Uthaesson.”

 

“Well, that makes it even worse, ada! She was married to you and she bonded with another ellon. And then she went ahead and went through the ceremony and made me and my sister with you. She was married to two ellon at the same time. I’m sure there are rules against that.” Legolas stated positively.

 

Seeing that his son had truly grasped the situation and was only upset on his behalf, and possibly his own legitimate birth status, he answered, a little wryly, “Well, it certainly complicated everything. But once she left with her bond-mate and left these shores it annulled our marriage contract, heir or no heir. And you are still legitimate. There was never a question in that regards, so do not worry so.” Thranduil leaned over to give his son a quick kiss upon his brow before getting up and asking, “Are you ready for that ride now?”

 

Legolas bounded up and reached around his father’s waist to give him a quick and hard squeeze. “Yes, ada! Just give me a couple of minutes to go and change into my riding clothes.” and he sprinted out of the room.

 

Galion entered a moment later and asked him how it had gone. Thranduil answered, “Better and worse than I thought it would go. But it is at least over, at last.” Thranduil stopped and cocked his head at his friend, “Do you know he asked if he was a bastard?”

 

Galion gaped at him, “Oh Eru! I hope you were able to reassure him.”

 

“Yes, but do I have to worry about this? I told him, and I believe it to be true, that because myself and his naneth were already legally married on paper, that he was legitimate. I have that correct, do I not?” Thranduil asked a little worriedly.

 

“Yes, yes! I am sure of it. It is why you had to go through the ceremony in the first place and not wait the traditional betrothal year. In fact, you were already married and did not even have to go through the ceremony - it was all for show. I remember this clearly. And she broke the marriage contract when she left Ennor.” Galion replied.

 

“Good, good! Just checking!” Thranduil chuckled and went to change into his riding clothes very relieved that this was now out in the open with his son and he wouldn’t need to worry over it ever again.


	8. Chapter 8

Over the decades Legolas continued to grow and thrive. Gifted with both intelligence and athleticism, along with his cheerful disposition he was a joy to be around. He suffered from none of the haughty or self-important conceit or ostentatious shortcomings that afflicted many of his peers, both at home and in the other elven realms.

 

While he had technically come of age at fifty, he still had not yet reached his true majority. The closer he came to his final “filling out” time, as counted by age one hundred and one, the more he resembled his Daeradar . This comforted Thranduil somewhat in a bittersweet way. Sometimes he would look upon his son and see his own adar and the sight would cause him to miss him terribly, but at other times he was grateful his adar’s visage had not faded from the world and could be seen in the face of his grandson.

 

Legolas did, however, suffer from a certain amount of high spiritedness that drove his adar to distraction and there were times that Thranduil did understand why the adani used the expression of “going grey” with worry over their offspring's escapades. For Legolas could be very clever in doing those things that weren’t expressly forbidden, thus escaping the worst of his adar’s wrath.

 

Thranduil had taken to keeping a mental list of all the ways Legolas could twist, bend or walk around a particular rule in order to forestall the most disastrous results some of his mischief landed him in, all the while claiming, "But adar, you did not say I could not do such," with those feigned innocent eyes that would instantly produce a storm-cloud across his adar's brow.

 

Galion had it worse, though. Lalorniel could produce the most soulful expression within those deep blues eyes of hers. Her naneth's eyes, though she bore Galions copper tresses. And the way she could make that bottom lip tremble! Eru! It was enough to make a grown ellon's resolve crumble. 

 

This particular morning, however, had shown him a gap he’d inadvertently overlooked in the growing list of “What _NOT_ to do” he’d tried to instill in his son’s imaginative head. _Eru!_ The elfling, who was no longer an elfling at seventy years of age, sometimes seemed to have a head filled with candy floss! Thranduil frowned as he contemplated his son and Lalorniel who both stood uncomfortably before him covered in honey, forest debris and bee stings. _Ai!_ They looked a sight, to be sure! Galion stood beside him silently fuming, for this little adventure fell under the heading of “King’s Business!”

 

“I have received a complaint from both Camen and his bond-mate, Gedis that the two of you are responsible for the loss of an entire Colony of their bees. Their best producers, they say. What say you to this?” Thranduil was annoyed because this particular Colony had consisted of seven hives and all were lost, the hives destroyed and the Queens having flown off in a huff to find a location that would not be disturbed by foolish elves who insisted upon climbing to their chosen tree branch and bringing the whole thing down with their weight!

 

Two of the Queens had made their way through his open study window to give him a piece of their minds and they had not been amused! Thranduil had gotten the distinct impression that they both would have stung him in their ire had that been an option for them and they had not been interested in his attempted apologies.

 

He would have to go and speak with Radagast to see if he could help smooth things over with them. The elves depended upon those bees and their honey and wax were staple items to them! It was not the only Colony, to be sure, but they could not afford to offend the creatures who shared their bounty with the elves.

 

Legolas began, attempting to fill the silence that followed his father’s query, which meant he actually wanted a response. Sometimes these sessions began with a rhetorical question and he would just have to stand there and let his father vent and lecture him, demanding his son’s silence and attention. This was apparently not one of those times.

 

“We are sorry, adar…..uh, uh _Sire_ ,” Legolas quickly amended seeing his father’s lifted eyebrow, (' _how did he DO that?!!')_ flitted across his mind before he tried again, “We didn’t set out to even touch the branch, but I stepped in a hole and lost my footing, but instead of letting go of Lorni, who was holding onto the branch to steady herself, I grabbed onto her which meant that the branch did bear our entire combined weight and well…...the whole branch came down.” Legolas concluded looking shamefaced and wiping away the tears that started to his eyes, because he really _did_ feel bad in not only being the cause of the lost Colony, but he’d hurt the tree as well.

 

While not being quite as attuned to the forest as his adar, he did hear the voices and song of the trees and he wasn’t sure he’d ever get the sound of that tree’s wail of pain out of his head. The sound of the angry bees, on the other hand, had been truly frightening. _How anything so small could hurt so bad…..._

 

Beside him Lorni spoke up, “It was my idea, Sire.” She began, shushing Legolas as he began to protest. “We could have gotten some honey from the kitchens but I thought it would taste better out of the hive.”

 

Beside him Thranduil heard Galion’s low groan and felt, rather than saw, him facepalm in despair at his daughter’s outrageous confession.

 

Lorni continued before her King could speak, “What can I do to fix this? I will do anything you require, Sire.”

 

“ _WE_! We will do anything you require, My Lord.” Legolas quickly added.

 

“Very well, I will think upon it,” Already Thranduil was forming the idea to send _them_ to Radagast to solve the problem. “Now get you both to the healers to take care of those stings and for Eru’s sake make yourselves presentable!” and he dismissed them.

 

When they were safely out of earshot both he and Galion burst into laughter, clearly recalling when it had been _they_ who had stood before their very annoyed _adar’s_ for a tongue lashing. There had even been a few times when they, themselves, had stood before a very stern King Elu Thingol for their transgressions (* _shudder_ *). That ellon could burn a hole right through you with that glare!

 

“Did you _see_ them?!” Galion gasped when he could catch his breath. “Ah, it reminds me of the time…..” and Thranduil quickly shushed him, leaning in and muttering, “Remember our _rule_!”

 

The rule being that they never, _EVER_ speak of their childhood adventures where there could be any ears to hear them. They had their reputations to uphold, after all! Galion sighed and nodded in agreement. His Merilwen was so much better at this!

 

“Actually, it would have served them right if I had set them to some chores to allow that mess to harden into a resin on them!” Thranduil grumbled.

 

“Why didn’t you?” Galion asked, curious. It would have been a _very_ good lesson.

 

“I feared it might only come out with a razor if we had left it too long. They will have enough trouble getting it out as it is - even with the oils!” Thranduil exclaimed as the image of their children - bald - flashed into his mind. _Yesh!_

 

“Ah, yes! Probably for the best, then.” Galion agreed as the same image uncomfortably presenting itself into his own mind. _No, Merilwen would not like that at all!_

 

********************

 

Thirty more years had passed and a feast was being prepared for the Prince’s Century Celebration, for his one hundred and first Begetting day, celebrating the one century the prince had lived upon Ennor. Most eldar celebrated the one hundredth begetting day when an ellon or ellith reached their majority. But the Century Celebration was a special Silvan celebration of living on Ennor for one century and Thranduil's House had embraced this custom. 

 

He had reached his full filling-out and was a fine figure of an ellon. Though not quite as tall or broad as his adar, he was well made and fair to look upon. And his adar was very proud of him for he seemed to have finally settled down and had not engaged in the mischief that brought his adar to such grief over the years.

 

At this very moment he stood before his adar and Galion, both of whom he had requested an private meeting. The ellyn waited to hear what was on the prince’s mind.

 

“What is it that is concerning you, ion nin ?” Thranduil gently asked. Having no idea what could be causing his son’s nervousness.

 

Legolas blew out a breath he had not known he was holding and blurted out in a rush, “I would like both of your permission and blessings to wed Lalorniel.” and then awaited their reaction with a hint of fear in his eyes.

 

“YES!” Thranduil exclaimed, shocking both his son and his friend. “Ah, yes, well, what I mean is, are you sure, ion nin? And are you sure of her feelings in this matter?” the king inquired having regained his usual composure.

 

“Oh yes, adar! We have both been speaking of this for the last thirty years. We decided to wait until our majority to bring the matter up to you. And it is my duty to approach both of our adars, so I just thought I would ask you both at the same time, to you know, save time.” concluded Legolas blushing furiously.

 

“If she feels the same way, you have both my permission and blessing, ion nin.” Thranduil replied and then looked pointedly at his friend

 

“Mine as well, Legolas, if that is both your wish.” Galion added quickly, mentally adding that he had to go see Merilwen at once!

 

A radiant smile split the prince’s face as he thanked them both profusely. “If possible, I would like to announce our intentions tonight, at my feast.” Legolas asked shyly.

 

“I have no objections, but let us give Galion a chance to speak with Lorni and her naneth, please, ion nin.” Thranduil offered.

 

“Of course, adar!” beamed the prince, already knowing the worst was behind him, for he was sure of his love’s affections towards himself. “Well, that is all I wished to speak to you about. May I be dismissed now, please? Or is there anything you require further of me before the feast tonight?” he asked.

 

“Just show up clean, with your hair brushed wearing the clothes I had made for the occasion for you.” the king replied in a serious tone, though his eyes were lit up with mirth.

 

“Ada!” his son groaned, rolling his eyes. "I am not an elfling any longer, or have you forgotten the purpose of tonight’s events?” he asked in exasperation, while knowing his adar was teasing him. He was at that age when he wanted to be taken seriously as an adult, not realizing he would never be taken seriously and would always be counted as the “baby-adult.”

 

“Go, go and try not to allow your friends to challenge you to any drinking games before this evening.” Thranduil waved his hand at his son, dismissing him. He wanted to talk to Galion about this turn of events.

 

“Yes, adar!” sighed Legolas, conceding defeat and promptly excused himself.

 

Once the door closed Thranduil turned to his friend and exclaimed “They want to wed! Is that not wonderful news, my friend?!”

 

Galion just looked at his Gwador and smiled, “I had no idea you approved of such a match, Thran.”

 

Thranduil looked at his sworn brother a little incredulously, “Why in the world would I oppose it? You should know better than anybody why I would want my son to be happy above all else!” he concluded a little reproachfully, a little hurt by the implied slight. As though he would ever put his son through the same pain of an arranged marriage purely for political purposes.

 

Galion gasped, and grabbed Thranduil's shoulder and exclaimed, “Oh course you would! Please forgive my thoughtlessness. It was cruel!” Taking a deep breath he sighed, “Well, I need to go see Meri and Lorni. Like as not they were already aware of this whole business and you and I were the last to know. As usual!” he concluded with a chuckle.

 

“Indeed! Come and see me afterwards. I really would like to make the announcement tonight and then arrange for the betrothal ceremony as quickly as possible." A thought occurred to him, "Do you think it would be possible to combine both events, tonight?” Thranduil asked speculatively. “That would be some surprise Begetting Day gift for my son, do you not think? Much better than the bow and knives I had made for him.” he added with a grin.

 

“Yes, why not?" replied Galion, liking the idea. "But we do not have the rings.” he added dejectedly, a little let down. For a moment he had felt young again as though he and his friend were planning one of their pranks of old.

 

Thranduil thought for a moment and then said with a mischievous grin, “We can use my parent’s betrothal rings. I even have their marriage rings for when the time comes.” he added with a pleased smirk.

 

“Oh, Eru! That would work. We are really going to do this? Tonight?” he breathed, excitement beginning to take hold of him. “I have to find Meri!” he said walking towards the door. “We will meet you back here shortly.” and he was out the door.

  
Thranduil grinned and headed towards his chambers to retrieve the rings. They would do the binding when they made the announcement. He could not wait to see his son’s face when he realized he was becoming betrothed right then and there.

 

He stopped for a moment wondering if what he was planning was a cruel prank on his unsuspecting son, and then shook himself. _Nah!_ And he continued on his way.


	9. Chapter 9

Two thousand, five hundred years after the marriage of Legolas, Thranduil was the Daeradar to his son’s three children. One ellon, Lassion, who was the image of his adar, and twin ellyths, Cellilas and Collelas.

 

Lassion had wed a local ellith, Andrethel, and had sailed when she had been left so weak from birthing their son, Alagon, they'd had to leave Arda else she would fade. The twin ellyth had long since gone to Lothlorien with their husbands, Rumil and Orophin and had born children of their own. They, too, had sailed to Aman with their mother, Lalorniel, and grandmother, Merilwen, leaving their husbands behind when the shadow had again infected the land. Their husbands had felt they must stay behind and defend their realms.

 

Rumors of the Necromancer now living in Orophers first stronghold in Amon Lanc had proved spurious and it was now believed by the wise that Sauron was not destroyed, but was slowly growing in power. Yrch and giant spiders had been spreading from Dol Guldur, as it was now named. Grievous to those in the Woodland Realm was their beautiful Eryn Galen, that is Greenwood the Great, had now been renamed by the wise as Taur-nu-Fuin, the forest under nightshade, Taur-e-Ndaedelos, the forest of great fear, or Mirkwood in the Common Tongue.

 

It had always been part of their training of the young to teach them woodcraft, survival and hunting skills, self defense and a certain amount of tactical warcraft. But now it was a matter of survival. Those who had once lived in small villages throughout the Woodland Realm now moved in closer to Meren Nen Amon, which were the Halls of the last Elvenking of Ennor. Thranduil had slowly been arming his subjects with the best armour and weapons he could obtain from the dwarves of the Grey Mountains.

 

As The Watchful Peace had ended long ago and the advent of the dragon, Smaug, had killed or driven out the inhabitants of the Lonely Mountain, trade with the dwarves was a slow and lengthy business. Trade agreements had to be often, in the eyes of the elves, renegotiated as the leaders of the dwarves would change often through age or mishap. This was a matter of some vexation to Thranduil, as it seemed merely an excuse to break their word to him.

 

It was a source of joy to him when upon delivery of the last order of weapons and armour he had not bothered to haggle at all when the dwarves, once again, changed the agreed upon price of the goods delivered. He also felt he could not be judged too harshly at the smug glee he felt when he beheld the faces of the dwarves and their bewildered astonishment when he informed them that he no longer required their services as their needs had been met.

 

He thanked them for their past services and informed them he was quite pleased with the work they had provided him over the years. He, of course, offered them refreshment and rest before they made their trek back to the Grey Mountains. He then had them escorted from his presence.

 

“You enjoyed that entirely too much, if I may say so, Sire.” he heard from Galion, who was, as was his wont, always near.

 

Thranduil held up a finger, “It has taken near a full millennia to get our people properly equipped. I think I’m entitled to enjoy their discomfiture, just a little bit.” now holding his thumb and index fingers to indicate just how little he felt he had tweaked them.

 

“It matters not, now. It is done. I would not have them think me ungrateful and I would not lose them as an ally if the worst were to befall us. We all need each other in these dark times. Still, it did feel a little satisfying to tell them I will no longer deal with their confounded price haggling nor greed any longer.” Thranduil said in exasperation.

 

“Do you not find it odd they made no mention of the Heir of Durin and his band of misfits that we entertained but a few short weeks ago?” Galion quearied.

 

“Yes and no. That may be the reason for the price increase. Perhaps not. It seems to be their standard operating procedure when dealing with us over the years. The aberration, this time, is my not playing the game and paying them. I think that surprised them more than my declaration that we no longer needed their services.” Thranduil said, and then sighed.

 

“And besides! I would not have locked that rambunctious bunch up in the storerooms if they had not lied to my face! Starving, indeed. And then did their best to tear the Halls down around our ears!" He sighed, "I suppose I should thank them for stumbling upon that large nest of vermin for us.

 

"Though, I want the word spread that no more “revelries” are to take place in the forest without proper supervision! If those elflings had not been in their cups those dwarves would never have just stumbled upon them once, let alone three times!” The king got up to leave, calling over his shoulder, “And find out  _how_ they were able to obtain the wine without their parents the wiser! Keeping youngsters from pilfering our supplies is why we have those blasted gates on our stores in the first place!”

 

“Your father put those gates on to keep  _us_ out of those stores, Thran!” Galion pointed out glibly, falling into step besides his friend and monarch.

 

“Ssshhhh! You never know when the very walls have ears, Gal!” the king admonished.

 

“Yes, Sire.” Galion chuckled, quite used to his friend's quick transformation into naughty elfling. It was amusing to him how his best friend had never quite left that part of himself behind. He couldn’t deny it was a useful aspect of his personality - especially when trying to outwit young elves intent on mischief.

 

************************

 

Thranduil stood upon the bloodied plain in front of the Lonely Mountain devastated by the losses he beheld before him in the aftermath of what would be known as the Battle of the Five Armies. He silently thanked Eru and the Belain for the intervention of the Great Eagles of Manwë in their hour of need. It gratified him to know they had not been forgotten in Ennor.

 

Beside him, the Perian stood with his own sword bloodied with a heartbroken look upon his face. Hobbit, is what he called himself, Bilbo Baggins, by name. He had stood beside Thranduil and would not be budged. Thranduil, helpless, made sure he survived the battle, though knew not from whence he had earned this young Hobbits loyalty, but he had found it endearing.

 

Hearing a shout he turned and saw his son and Galion making their way to him. Making his way quickly to embrace his son, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to release him, so grateful he was that his son lived. But release him he did and embraced his lifelong friend, just as grateful to see him unharmed.

 

Exchanging sad smiles, they began to make their way to the ruins of Dale. Thranduil stopped momentarily and called to the young Perian, who shook himself as if out of a trance and fell into step with them. Legolas looked questioningly at his father and Thranduil threw him a look that clearly said, _“Not now.”_ and proceeded to the city.

 

They made their way what was once the Great Hall, and found Dain, Bard and the Grey Wizard within. “BILBO!” Gandolf cried, “You’re alive! Well, done!”

 

Bilbo made his way over to the Wizard and gave his dust encrusted robes a brief hug. “Good to see you, too, Gandolf!” the weary hobbit murmured.

 

Dain, cleared his throat before speaking, “I need to go and prepare those lost for burial within the Mountain. We lost Thorin’s entire line. I guess that makes me King Under the Mountain, now.” he said with grief clearly in his voice.

 

Thranduil gripped his shoulder conveyed his sorrow for his losses, “We’ve all lost those dear to us this day. Let us make sure that such does not occur again.”

 

“Did ye really lock em up in yer dungeons, Laddie?” Dain gruffly asked

 

“Dungeons? We do not have any dungeons! Ada?” Legolas exclaimed and looked at his father.

 

“Weeellll, after the incident in the kitchens and the waterfall and the bridge and the throne room - and it was really the throne room that did it for me - and the linen room and the tray races down the corridors of the living quarters, I finally decided to lock them in the store rooms - near where the wine barrels are dumped into the river - during the Feast of Starlight. I really felt our people needed to have a nice celebration without naked dwarves splashing around in the fountain or the river or just in general.” Thranduil concluded, pursing the royal lips.

 

Dains face had steadily been turning a brighter and brighter hue of red as what Thranduil seemed to be describing was a shocking breach of etiquette, as guests in a foreign realm, before he burst out into uproariously loud laughter, doubling over in his glee at his kinsmen general bowdy behavior. He could just imagine how well that had gone over with these “Oh-so-stuffy” elves. “I see my kinsmen have been telling some tall tales, then.” And left to see to his people, guffawing all the way out the door.

 

Of course, he had no idea how wild wood-elves could actually be, and none there would make him the wiser. Legolas side eyed his father, “You locked them in the store rooms?” he snickered. “No wonder they got away!”

 

“Oh, well, you see, that was actually me. That is, it was me who released them. We, um, used your barrels and went out the trap door.”  Bilbo said, looking decidedly shamefaced. “I, er, put some sleeping herbs into the cups of your guard and him,” pointing at Galion, who had the grace to blush when the kings head whipped in his direction, “and then, um, took the keys and let them out. So, you see, it was me.” he finished with a deep sigh and looked up sheepishly towards the Elvenking. Who frankly looked perplexed.

 

“But where were you hiding? We never even saw you?” Galion exclaimed.

 

“Oh, well, it is because of a magic ring I found. It makes me invisible. And I saw plenty of you. All of you. And I thought you ever so kind, but every time I was going to reveal myself those confounded dwarves would cause some mischief or other - and believe you me, you don’t know the half of it.” Bilbo exclaimed,

 

“So every time one of your guards would come to round them up - _again!_ \- I would simply put the ring back on and go on my way. You have very nice Halls, by the way, King Thranduil. And your people seem much more lively and happy than even those elves I met in Rivendell.” he concluded.

 

“Well, I’m glad to hear you enjoyed yourself. But you should watch out for those magic rings. A friend of mine warned me against those years ago. Told me to steer clear of them.” looking pointedly at Gandolf. “So what are your plans now, Mirthrandir?”

 

“Gandolf!” The hobbit, interjected, “I wish to go home. Now. If you please. Adventures are all very well and good, but the time comes when they must come to an end. I wish to sit in my own smial with a nice cup of tea, a book and a cheery fire. Preferably smoking a nice pipe. If that is agreeable to you, that is?”

 

“Very well, then Master Hobbit. If you wish to go home, then home is where you will go!” the wizard beamed at him. “Might we impose upon you, King Thranduil, to provide us safe passage through your forest?”

 

“Yes, of course! Let me just inform Bard that I will not only leave them the supplies, but some of our Healers and those willing to stay to assist in their rebuilding. I’ll, of course, send more as needed.” and he left to do just that.

 

**********************

 

When the time came to go their separate ways, the Hobbit having thanked the King for his offer to stay for a few days within his Halls, out of the shadows, of course, but Bilbo was adamant upon keeping to their journey as he wanted to get himself home as quickly as possible.

 

Thranduil insisted upon sending them on their way with more provisions, including a very nice pouch of pipeweed he kept on hand to trade with Esgaroth, horses and a contingent of elven guards to insure their safety.

 

Bilbo then presented the king with a very lovely necklace of silver and pearls as repayment for his, er, provisions during his first stay within the Halls. Thranduil named him Elf-friend and told the little Perian that he was welcome within his Halls anytime he wished for a proper visit and bid them farewell. But not before Gandolf had a quiet word with him.

 

“So, this “friend” of yours? The one who warned you against magic rings? Anyone I might know.” the old wizard inquired.

 

“Oh yes! I’d say you know him quite well. You might even think of him as a, eh, brother, if you will.” the king readily replied and hint of mischief in his eyes.

 

“I see.” he replied quietly

 

“Oh, I doubt that!” Thranduil blithely replied with tilted head and even more humor dancing within his eyes and lips quirking into a smirk as he stepped back and bid them farewell and safe travels.

 

***********************

 

“Have you never thought of sailing, Gal?” Thranduil asked his friend as they watched as the ship carrying his son and his dwarf friend, Gimli, out of his sight. He sighed and turned his mount back towards their home.

 

“Yes, of course I have! Galion exclaimed, “My family is there. All of them. So is yours, Thran. Would you not wish to see your Adar again? Perhaps to meet your mother? See if the grandchildren have grandchildren of their own? See all the friends we have lost over the millennia.”

 

“I don't know how I know this, but I do know it is not my time yet. I feel,” Thranduil paused as if in thought, “I feel as though I am waiting for something. What, I know not. I just know that I get a strong feeling of “NOT YET” whenever I have thought to sail.”

 

He looked over to his friend before he continued, “I have seen a time I will ask you to go without me - wait!” he threw up his hand when Galion would have protested, “I do not know why I would ask such of you, but it must be important for I can not think of any situation where I would willingly do without you at my side. I love you, Gwador. You have been the only constant in my entire life.”

 

“You know I feel the same, Thran.” Galion responded clearly distressed.

 

“Do not think on it, friend. It will not be this day nor any day soon that this will occur. I don't wish you to live in fear that I will banish you.” Thranduil smirked at his friend. “I can’t believe they built that thing themselves. Had he asked, I would have purchased him a ship had he wished. The Falathrim still dwell here.” He said musingly.

 

“I think it was something to do together. And to delay their journey. Though, even with the Sea-Longing, Legolas could not delay indefinitely. His friend Gilmi is mortal and would not long survive more delay. And Legolas promised him.” Galion mused.

 

Thranduil did not answer and seemed deep in thought. Suddenly, he raised his head and looked, with purpose renewed, towards his friend. “Come Galion! I need to have a word with Cirdan if he's still within these shores. If not, then I still must speak with the Falathrim. We must make arrangements for the future.

 

"Though you may be across the sundering seas on whatever task I have set you, there will come a day when I will bring all of our people across to the deathless shores. I may not see when or why, but I believe I will send you to make ready for the rest of us.” And Thranduil turned his horse now with purpose and Galion following his Lord and Friend.

**Author's Note:**

> Most or all elvish is Sindarin, though some could be Quenyan (Noldorin) words:  
> Aran - King  
> Ernil - Prince  
> Mellon - friend  
> Ellon - Male elf  
> Ellith - Female elf  
> Elfling - child elf  
> Adar/Ada - Father/Dad  
> Naneth/Nana - Mother/Mom  
> Ion - Son  
> Iel - Daughter  
> Ion nin - My Son  
> Iel nin - My Daughter  
> Tithen Pen - Little One  
> Daeradar - Grandfather  
> Daernaneth - Grandmother  
> Daerion - Grandson  
> Daeriel - Granddaughter  
> Perian - Hobbit  
> Belain - Valar  
> Yrch - Orc  
> Ennor - Middle Earth  
> Eryn Galen/Lasgalen - Greenwood the Great (The Woodland Realm)  
> Meren Nen Amon - Joyous Water Hill (Halls of Thranduil)  
> Gwador - Sworn Brother (non blood relation/ close friend)  
> Gwathel - Sworn Sister (non blood relation/ close friend)


End file.
